


No Place Like It

by SaraJaye



Category: Hey Arnold!
Genre: Christmas Tree, Emotional Healing, F/M, Family Feels, Gen, Homecoming, Hugs, Mention of nervous breakdowns, Therapy, mention of alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 10:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17098553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaraJaye/pseuds/SaraJaye
Summary: Helga can't remember the last time she was actually happy to be coming home for Christmas.





	No Place Like It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snarky_panda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snarky_panda/gifts).



For the first time in who knows when, Helga Pataki is actually _happy_ to come home for Christmas. As usual, Arnold being by her side is a big part of it, but this past year ended up being a shocking turn around for the whole family. Miriam is _finally_ sober, for _real_ this time after finding a program she could stick with. She'd actually thrown her blender away according to Big Bob, who's doing better than anyone could have predicted with his anger management classes. Though Helga suspects retiring from the business world's done him some good, too.

And Olga, the struggling emotional wreck who wanted her whole family to be happy at the expense of her sanity, is in the therapy she's needed forever. It had been a mental collapse over the summer semester that forced her to drop out of Bennington and _really_ re-evaluate herself. Helga had known for a while that her older sister was Not Okay, but her continued insistence on denying it and continuing to be Miss Perfect made it impossible for _anyone_ to help her see it herself. Helga remembers getting that call from Olga's roommate and the chill that went up her spine as she screamed for Big Bob and Miriam, telling them the news. Her friends rushing to comfort _her_ when she realized just how scared she was for her sister.

But she's going to be okay. Mom and Dad are going to be okay, this whole visit is going to be okay. Probably not perfect, since family Christmases had to have their share of crap here and there, but for once it'll be a Christmas she can _enjoy._

"I hope they like these sweaters, because so far I'm not totally sure what the new and improved Patakis like," she muses, glancing down at her shopping bags. Ugly Christmas sweaters are popular these days, plus they were on sale. Helga's editing job for a small-time poetry 'zine is a typical college-student job: fulfilling, but it doesn't pay a whole lot. It'll be years until she can actually make bank off her writing, even with a host of supportive writing professors in her corner.

"Hey, it gets cold in Hillwood," Arnold assures her. "And I think your mom will like the kitten with antlers, the counter girl said it was big with moms and grandmas." He chuckles. "If Grandma didn't already have one she made herself I'd have gotten it for her." Arnold had bought a pumpkin cookie jar two months ago and gussied it all up for Christmas, a testament to his grandma's constant mixing up of the holidays. She's getting better about it, but Helga's still prepared to see that spooky skeleton Christmas movie again when she visits the boarding house.

They're at the bus stop soon, just a few blocks from the Pataki house. To Helga's surprise, Mom's there waiting for them, the trunk popped open.

"Hey, you two! I didn't know if the bus would be on time so I came early," she announces. She's carrying a cardboard tray with three cups of coffee. "My new vice, but I got you two some just in case. There's milk and sugar packets in my purse." The purse is at her side, she hasn't left it on top of the car in years.

"Coffee's not so much a vice as it is something adults need to function," Arnold says. "I thought I could escape the trap until midterms started, and there's a shop right across from my apartment."

"And it's cheap." Helga's been to the place a few times, the coffee's not great but it does its job, and the workers are pretty nice. "Thanks, Mom."

The ride home is short, but Helga and Arnold both manage to get Mom updated on their classes and social lives. Phoebe and Gerald are still themselves, still happy together, the four of them will be getting together for cider and bad Christmas movies on Monday. Helga ran into Patty Smith the other day, she's still big but a lot less mean, apparently she invited Rhonda to her place for Christmas break. Lila's in Europe with her dad and stepmom, she's apparently dating Stinky now. Harold's doing that trip to Israel all Jewish people apparently get for free once in their life. Sid and Nadine are apparently working on some super-frog-bug genetic program, Sheena's a farmer, and Eugene's in film school. And Curly? Apparently this latest therapist managed to tighten a few of his screws.

Social media makes it ridiculously easy to keep up with people you were supposed to forget all about after high school. But deep down Helga's glad for it, sometimes she does kind of miss those losers a bit.

(Not Iggy, though. He fucked off to Texas or something in middle school and no one ever heard from his sorry ass again.)

Olga rushes to greet her, smothering her with hugs and kisses before she can even put her stuff down, while Dad runs to clap Arnold on the back, shake his hand. One of the best things about having Arnold Shortman as a boyfriend is that even the old Dad would never give him that embarrassing _you better be treating my little girl right_ speech, because it's _Arnold fucking Shortman_. The guy who's tried to reform assholes like Stoop Kid, Torvald, even those pricks who used to beat them up in baseball and football all the time.

It doesn't always work, but he tries. That's more than most people are willing to do these days.

"You kids're just in time to help us pretty up the tree!" Dad says. "We dragged everything down from the attic this morning, and Miriam here untangled the lights!" Helga gives a sigh of relief, the lights always manage to get tangled and she has many unpleasant memories of watching Dad curse his way through trying to fix them.

"If you want, I can show you how to store them so they don't tangle in the future," Arnold offered. "It's a trick Grandpa taught me and Dad their first Christmas home." Helga has to try so hard not to swoon, she's so damn proud of her boyfriend. Even now, he's got an answer for everything. Dad's clearly impressed, while Olga and Mom both sigh with relief.

"Once the tree comes down, please show us," Mom says as they start digging through the boxes. "Oh! Helga, it's that pinecone Santa you made when you were four years old." Helga blinks, staring at the ancient pinecone that somehow _hadn't_ turned into dust, wrapped in messy red felt with a cotton-ball beard and googly eyes. She barely remembers making that thing, most of her homemade holiday stuff always took a back seat to Olga's anyway.

"You actually saved it."

"Course we did! I mean, it wasn't the greatest, but neither was anything I made at that age!" Dad chuckles. "The more I look back the more I realize Olga was a wild card, neither your Mom or I were shining stars with anything till I buckled down in business school. Maybe that's why I kept the ol' beeper store so long, it was the first big thing I ever did."

"And I just gave up," Miriam sighed. "But it's never too late to pick something up again, right?"

"Everyone can be great no matter how old they are, if they really want to," Arnold says. "Even if they have to work for it." He laughs. "Sorry, that probably makes me sound like a fortune cookie."

"Oh, Arnold, that's what you were always good at," Olga pipes up, hanging Helga's little Santa right at the front of the tree, next to a candy cane. "Because you believed in Helga, she's the one who helped us turn our lives around." Helga blushes; all she really did was tell Dad to take care of himself, tell Mom she was afraid she was gonna die if she kept drinking, and visit Olga in the hospital.

Then again, they say it's the little things that count.

"Well...you know. _Someone_ had to do something," she mumbles, rubbing the back of her neck.

"And we're glad it was you, baby sister." Olga gives her such a hug she can barely breathe, and Helga lets her. Because it took going away to realize how much she cared about her family, how much she wanted them to be okay, and it feels _good_ to be the reason everything's right with the world.

There really is no place like home for the holidays.


End file.
